Worlds of Enchantment
by Aishuu
Summary: There's different worlds out there, but the possibility always exists for them to meet. The Harry Potter crew meets a Cat of a different kind. AU after Goblet of Fire for HP.
1. Past Wrongs

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Worlds of Enchantment  
_by aishuu_  
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and crew belong to the indomitable JK Rowling, while Cat Chant and friends are property of Diana Wynne Jones. Some of my magic system is borrowed from _Magician's Ward _by Patricia Wrede.

* * *

_Prologue:_

Past Wrongs

The light in Dumbledore's study flickered a few times, and the old wizard adjusted his glasses, peering at the cramped writing in his spellbook. Old spellbooks often had impossibly small print, since parchment had been a premium for ages. It had been practical at the time, he was sure, but the practice sure made it damned difficult to actually make sense of the spells and notes after a few centuries. He was scowling at a particular word, trying to decide if it said _incartis_ or _incantis,_ knowing that mispronouncing it could have disastrous repercussions.

He nibbled on the tip of his sugar quill, smiling as the lemony taste tingled his tongue. He really couldn't make it out. He turned his attention to Fawkes in exasperation. "Do you know if it's _incartis_ or _incantis_?" he asked the phoenix, knowing he wouldn't get an answer.

"It's incantis," a voice said unexpectedly.

Dumbledore whirled to see who had spoken, who had managed to pass his security without him being aware of it. A handsome man in elegant, though old fashioned, clothing stood across from him. "My apologies for my rather… rude entrance, Professor Dumbledore," he said, his voice smooth as well-aged whiskey, "but I doubted that I was going to be summoned any time soon to this world, and I needed to speak to you privately."

"Summoned?" He produced his wand from up his sleeve, mentally preparing to cast a banishing spell. "Why did you have to be summoned?" Summoning was something that was associated with demons and other nefarious creatures, and though the man in front of him looked perfectly human, Dumbledore knew better than to trust appearances.

The man smiled. "I see you don't know me. Perhaps we should introduce ourselves properly." He bowed slightly at the waist. "My greetings, Sir Albus Dumbledore… my name is Christopher Chant, and I'm the current Chrestomanci." He was very polite and genuinely respectful, but his dark eyes practically shone with power.

Dumbledore coughed in surprise. "The last time I knew, that position was held by a rather unpleasant fellow named de Witt." He remembered the gray-haired gentleman with an uncharacteristic swell of dislike. The few times they had encountered each other, he'd found DeWitt's arrogance and ostentatious attitude annoying as hell.

Chant smiled softly. "He did have his good points- he wasn't much of a people-person, but he did his duty. I've been on the job for the last seven years, though."

Dumbledore scowled, his aged face looking truly formidable. "What do you want? You'll forgive me if I'm not thrilled to see you- your predecessor was less than helpful when we needed him."

"May I sit?" Chrestomanci asked.

"I can't stop you," Dumbledore said ungraciously. He normally would have been more polite, but the grudges that were stacked against the office of Chrestomanci were simply too grave for Dumbledore to completely overlook.

Chrestomanci sighed and magically beckoned to the tall, ladder-backed chair by glancing at it with his sparkling black eyes. The chaired walked over and he sat, taking his seat like an emperor. Dumbledore watched him, surprised at the sheer presence of the black-haired gentleman; it was true that magic was concentrated into the man's form until it practical had to spill out, but the current Chrestomanci had style as well. "I am sorry for this office's lack of cooperation in the past matters," Chrestomanci began.

"Really? De Witt let Voldemort take control here without putting in a single appearance- even Voldemort might have backed down from Chrestomanci. Instead, when our Ministry appealed to him, he gave them a spiel about "internal affairs" and that he would intervene when it threatened another world in our series." Dumbledore scowled, looking truly impressive. Enchanter or not, Dumbledore wasn't about to back down from the other man.

"Gabriel was afraid. There's worse things then dying, and Voldemort knew most of them."

"Then he shouldn't have been Chrestomanci."

"It's not like there's plenty of choices for the post. The qualifications needed are exceptionally rare. Besides, I don't know of anyone who knew him who wasn't afraid of Voldemort."

"I'm not," Dumbledore said.

"But you couldn't defeat him, either." The man sighed and raked a hand through his hair, yet it didn't become at all mussed, falling right back into order. "Actually, that's what I came about. I wanted to make sure that nothing like that happens again- and possibly make amends for the past mistakes of this office."

Dumbledore looked at him in surprise. Chrestomanci -whoever held the title- was almost always the most powerful enchanter in all the known worlds, and hardly ever bothered to apologize. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I have heard that Voldemort is rising again," he said grimly.

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Two years ago, a ceremony was performed that… restored him. I wouldn't say brought him back to life, since he's not exactly human anymore… we didn't bother to notify you since it was an 'internal affair'."

Chrestomanci nodded, ignoring the barb. "I have a student who is about ready to enter the final years of his training- he is my successor."

Dumbledore watched him carefully, wondering where this was going.

"Since he is an nine-life enchanter, he is able to cross the barriers between worlds with no ill-effect. He's been trained to the fullest extent of his powers, and he is powerful. He still needs some polish, but he's very capable."

"What does this have to do with making amends?" Dumbledore asked warily.

"I want him to attend here for a year, as your ward." He held up a hand to forestall and protests. "He'll be able to help keep your students safe, and learn about your world. If he learns to care about the other worlds in the series, he'll be much more efficient at his job, which could only benefit us all. Your world is a good one to start with- the wizards are aware of the job of Chrestomanci, have a different system of magic, yet hide from the mundane -or 'Muggle'- world."

Dumbledore nodded. "It seems like a good idea, but- will he be able to cope with the different magic system? And the world? Our Britains are quite different… he won't even know what America is!"

"His foster-sister actually came from a world very much like this one, except for the magic- a practically non magical world. He's been learning quite a bit about the differences, and he'll need to learn to cope with going into a world that isn't his own- the Lord knows that I've been Summoned across series multiple times."

"Why as my ward?"

"He needs some protection and guidance- and you're one of the best." Chrestomanci's eyes seemed to bore into him. "I'm placing the magical future of the Known Worlds in your hands… will you accept the challenge?"

Dumbledore chuckled and raised an eyebrow, feeling himself start to like the enchanter in spite of himself. "Have I ever backed down from a challenge?"

END PROLOGUE 


	2. A Cat of a Different Kind

**Worlds of Enchantment**  
A Chronicles of Chrestomanci/Harry Potter Crossover  
by **aishuu**  
Notes: The timeline for this is a bit muddled; I do not take book 6 into account, though this is set in HP's final year. Also, the Cat of "Mixed Magics" wasn't used – this is based off his characterization in "Charmed Lives."

* * *

_Chapter One: A Cat of a Different Kind_

Harry Potter ducked into Flourish and Blotts, relieved to be out of the drizzle of water that was falling. It seemed like even in the Magic World, there were days when the weather couldn't quite decide what to do - there wasn't enough coming down to call a proper rain, and the occasional breaks gave one hope that maybe, just maybe, the ugliness would pass and the sun just might come out. It had been like that all day, making him feel cold and dreary, and putting people into decidedly foul moods.

School shopping tended to be something he enjoyed, because usually it signaled the beginning of something wonderful and fantastic. After a summer of practically working as a slave at Number 4 Privet Drive, his trip to Diagon Alley usually came as a welcome relief, since it reminded him that there really was life outside of the garden and the kitchen, and the sound of his Aunt Petunia's shrill voice as he inevitably failed to live up to her impossible standards.

This, though, would be the last of such escapes, for this year, Harry Potter would be graduating.

It was a strange and terrifying thing, for even with all of his previous trials, there had always been the promise of security at Hogwarts - but in ten short months, that would be taken away, and he would be thrust into the battle against the Dark Lord in earnest, without the shelter of his childhood. In some ways, he looked forward to it, to the knowledge that he would finally be recognized as someone who could protect, rather than needed protection, but he dreaded it as well. Whatever remained of his childhood would be taken away after this school year.

Life wasn't fair, especially to The Boy Who Lived.

For now, he just wanted to be a child a bit longer, forgetting about his future responsibilities. Beside him, he looked at Hermione, whose hair seemed to have returned to its notoriously frizzy state due to the humidity. Ron, who had been holding a copy of the Daily Prophet over his head for shelter (earning scowls form the pictures on the cover) was only a bit drier, but his freckled face was wearing an ill-tempered expression.

"If Mum hadn't insisted on waiting until _today_..." Ron muttered in annoyance.

"You know today's the sale day for a lot of school supplies," Hermione said with a bit of irritation, but even her voice seemed a bit less than passionate. She shook her cloak, and then gave Harry an amused smile. "Did you forget to use an _Impervious_?"

Harry was so used to having his glasses in different states of disarray that he hadn't even noted they were fogged up again. "Ah," he said, rubbing his fingers across his nose in embarrassment. "Apparently."

She "tsked" at him, rolling her eyes in exasperation as she tapped his glasses with her wand and said the spell. The glasses cleared immediately, and he smiled his thanks. "I'm going to go see about getting my texts - and I heard they have the third edition of _Practical Charms for the Charmless_..." Harry found himself tuning Hermione's familiar babble out with the ease of long practice.

Ron made a rather annoyed face, mouthed an apology at Harry, and ducked between the nearest set of shelves. Harry was trapped as Hermione continued to enthuse on her favorite subject. "Hermione-" he started, trying to cut her off.

"...There is also a rare print edition of _Obscuring the Obvious_ which I..."

Her voice continued to babble on, cheerful as a brook, and just as mind numbing. Nearing desperation, he glanced around for a distraction... no luck. All around them were books, and books would lead to more babbling - and then Harry finally noticed something that nearly took his breath away as he tried to contain his laughter. "Look over there!" he said, pointing to the magical chart which kept an eye on the status of books yet to be released. "Isn't that Trelawney's name?"

Hermione nearly tripped over her tongue as her rambling came to an abrupt cease. Spinning around, Hermione glared suspiciously at the board drinking in the sight with dawning horror on her face. "I can't believe it! Someone actually offered that fake a book deal?"

"_Premonitions of Peril_..." Harry read, trying to decide if he was more amused than ill from the idea. "I suppose she wants to be the next Nostradamus," he said bitterly. "How many times do you think she's said I'll die?"

"At least every other page," Hermione said sourly, her face scrunched-up with an expression of annoyance. She planted her hands firmly on her hips, before shaking her head. "I can't believe that standards have gone this low," she added. She glanced suspiciously at the board again, before sighing and turning toward the nearest book stack.

It was the reprieve he'd been waiting for. He ducked away, hoping she would become so entranced with whatever was her current passion that she wouldn't feel like he was abandoning her. He liked Hermione, but her bibliophilia was tiring.

Harry poked around the shelves without much interest, trying to ignore the unauthorized biography Rita Skeeter had released a month ago. To his relief, Hermione had assured him that it was actually pretty fair. Still, it was disconcerting to see his picturing winking at him from the display racks. It was even worse then the huge displays of Gilderoy Lockheart from his second year.

He wondered if he'd get in trouble from burning the whole lot, but decided with resignation that they'd probably be able to pin it on him. He noticed a rather cute witch in her twenties coming his way, a familiar gleam in her eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was start signing the stupid things, so he turned away, hoping that ignoring her would work. He needed a distraction.

He was just turning away to scurry for higher ground when he noticed a blond boy standing next to him. "Excuse me?" the boy asked.

Harry braced himself for the usual influx of star-struck awe he was the frequent recipient of. "Yes?" he asked, hoping his nerves didn't show.

"I'm a bit lost. Can you direct me to the section on zoology?" he asked.

It was hardly what Harry had been expecting, and it took him a moment to process the request. "Um, you mean magical creatures?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, that's the one." The boy sounded a bit embarrassed.

It was tempting for Harry to tell the other boy to just listen for the screams of pain (Hagrid had again selected biting books for his course), but tact won out. "There's no particular order to the shelves," he said. "If you're looking for texts, the best thing to do is ask a clerk and they can summon it for you."

"I wouldn't want to be a bother," the boy said, looking down at his shoes.

"They get paid to help," Harry pointed out.

"Good point." The boy's smile as he lifted his head was surprisingly sweet. "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. My name's Cat Chant," he said politely, proffering his hand. Cat looked around at the shelves where Harry's picture was winking from the unauthorized biography. "Can I take a mad guess and say you're Harry Potter?"

Harry really wanted to kill that Skeeter woman. "Whatever gave you that idea?" he asked a bit dryly.

"My amazing magical prowess," Cat returned, a slight curve on his lips. "I suppose we'll get to know each other at Hogwarts."

Harry blinked a few times. Cat didn't look old enough to be a teacher, but he did look older than a first-year student. Then again, this was the magical world, and no one was what he or she seemed on first sight. "You're transferring?"

"I'll be attending Hogwarts this year," Cat said with a bit of hesitation that Harry interpreted as shyness. "It's to help finish my education before I take a government post."

"You have a job lined up?" Harry asked curiously. He knew that he most likely would be going into the Aurors, but he was a special case. Most students didn't get jobs until they actually left school.

"It's kind of a family position. I'll be interning with my cousin for a while before taking over for him. Kind of nepotism, some might say," Cat said with a bit of embarrassment. "But I need a bit more broad education, so they sent me to Hogwarts."

Harry opened his mouth to ask why Cat was coming to Hogwarts so late, but the sound of rustling cloth drew his attention away. Blinking in surprise, he noticed Dumbledore approaching, a slender green book in his left hand. He opened his mouth to ask his professor what he was doing away from the school, but Dumbledore's attention was focused elsewhere.

"Ah, there you are, Cat," Dumbledore said. "I see you met Harry. He's going to be in your year."

"Yes, Uncle Albus," he said. "He's been very kind."

"Uncle?" Harry gurgled slightly. The idea of anyone as Dumbledore's nephew was interesting, to say the least.

Cat turned his guileless smile on the Boy Who Lived. "Well, he's my guardian for a while, since Chr- my current Guardian isn't in reach. We decided 'uncle' would be simplest."

Harry wondered how anyone could be out of the reach of the magical world, but tactfully didn't point that out. He'd ask Ron and Hermione later. "I see," he said.

Dumbledore set a guiding hand on Cat's shoulder. "I've arranged to have your schoolbooks delivered to your room," he said, ignoring the fact that Cat had just been trying to _find_ them. Looking at Harry, he smiled slightly, the blue of his eyes flashing with some secret message that Harry couldn't decipher. "Cat's staying at the Leaky Cauldron until the term starts. Perhaps you could make sure he gets back in one piece?"

Most teenagers would have looked rebellious at the not-so-subtle manipulation, but Cat merely nodded his head. "Is that okay with you?" he asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

Harry knew he was well and truly trapped. "Well, Ron and Hermione are here, and..."

"I've already spoken with Miss Granger, and I believe she'll be meeting you at the door, after you select your books," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

"That would be... fine then," Harry replied, wondering what the old man was up to.

"Good, good! I knew I could count on you!" Dumbledore said, chortling. "So then, I shall take my leave of you, until tomorrow." He smiled, and then vanished through a stack of bookshelves.

It was a decidedly strange encounter with Dumbledore, but Harry had learned that the old wizard always had a motive for what he was doing. He ran through the possibilities mentally, and came to the obvious conclusion that Cat was going to be important. If Dumbledore wanted them to become friends, it would be best to give the other boy a chance – but he wasn't about to start trusting him or anything.

Cat shuffled a bit as he shifted, and Harry realized he'd been quiet for too long. "Just thinking," he said.

"I hope this isn't too much of an imposition."

"No, it's not a problem," Harry said. "Let me get what I need, and we'll get going."

As he waited in line at the counter, he had second, third and fourth thoughts about his acceptance of Dumbledore's plan. He knew the old man wanted to keep him safe, but experience had taught him that Dumbledore sometimes had interesting ideas of what was best. He could feel Cat's eyes on him as he waited in line, and glanced over his shoulder a couple times, giving a nod of acknowledgement.

The witch at the register unfortunately recognized him, and he was asked to sign a copy of Rita Skeeter's book. He tried to decline, but the girl looked so disappointed that he caved, hastily scrawling his name on the cover next to the picture. Then he paid for the books and turned away before more people could ask. He signaled at Cat with an urgent hand to follow him.

Cat was smiling as they met toward the front of the shop. "A fan?" he asked.

"I guess," Harry replied, flushed with embarrassment. He'd never liked his so-called fame, finding it tended to land him in uncomfortable situations. "My friends should be around here somewhere…"

As if cued, he heard Ron's voice lift up. "Over here, Harry!"

"There they are," he said unnecessarily to Cat. "I'll introduce you."

Ron and Hermione watched as he came over. Hermione's eyes narrowed as she stared at Cat, before tilting her head in a questioning fashion. Harry shook his own head quickly, indicating not to ask immediately. Ron, who had learned a bit about discretion, raised an eyebrow before deciding to act naturally.

"Oh, this looks interesting!" he lifted the book Harry had bought for himself, _Shooting for Victory! The Chudley Cannons_ off the top of Harry's stack. Ron wasn't much into reading unless it involved Quidditch, but if his favorite game was the topic of a piece, then he rivaled Hermione's love of books.

Harry didn't have time to chide him, since Hermione was staring at Cat in her Who-is-this-stranger-I-wonder-what-I-can-learn-about-him fashion. Harry decided to introduce Cat to head her off.

"Cat, these are my friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley," he said. "Guys, this is Cat Chant. Dumbledore introduced us." He hoped they would be quick enough to catch up on the implications.

Ron glanced up from the book, giving Harry a significant look, before smiling at Cat. "Nice to meet you, err… Cat," he said in a half-distracted voice.

Hermione was politer, shifting her cauldron that contained all of her school supplies into her left hand so she could offer her right to Cat. "Good to meet you," she said, as Cat gave her a firm handshake. "Are you a new student?" she asked curiously.

Cat nodded as he reclaimed his hand. "I'm going to school at Hogwarts for my final year- I'm home schooled, but my guardian decided I should see some of the usual techniques."

"Home schooled?" This seemed to perk Hermione up quite a bit. "I didn't know witches and wizards could be home-schooled- I thought a certified academy was required to get your license."

Ron peeked up from the Cannons book he had snatched off of Harry. "Usually. But if your parents apply for it, home schooling can be done in special cases." He cast a glance at the blond. "What's your circumstance?"

Cat seemed a little on edge. "Um, my magic doesn't work the same way as most wizards' magic does," he said. "I needed special attention to get it under control."

"Really?" Hermione looked fascinated. "What's your magic like?" She looked like a hound that had just been released for a hunt.

"Well-" he said, and it looked as though he was mentally searching for a response.

"Stop pestering him, Hermione," Ron said. "He doesn't need an Inquisition." He flipped another page, glanced it over, and then tossed the book back into Harry's cauldron.

"I was just curious," she said, sounding a bit hurt. She was prone to being overly enthusiastic when presented with something new, but she never met any harm. Harry had eventually reconciled that aspect of her personality, annoying though it was. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Cat," she told him.

"It's okay," Cat said.

There was an awkward silence between the four as the conversation died. Hermione had been chided enough not to set off on another nosy set of questions; Ron was always suspicious of new people and took time to warm to them, and Harry couldn't think of a thing to say. Cat looked between the three of them, before scratching the back of his neck.

"I know my uncle kind of just dumped me on you, Harry," he said in an embarrassed voice. "If you could just give me directions, I'm sure I can find my way."

"No, it's not a problem," Harry protested. "I'm supposed to show Cat to the Leaky Cauldron," he said as an aside to his friends. Cat wasn't a bad chap, Harry thought.

"We're staying there, too," Ron chimed in. "In fact, we're meeting my mother and sister there for dinner in about half an hour. You're welcome to join us." The Weasley family generosity had been passed onto Ron quite well.

Cat gave Ron an evaluating look before nodding his agreement. "That would be very kind of you," he said.


End file.
